


In Uncertain and Dangerous Times

by alexcat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, My Slashy Valentine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22595620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: Glorfindel and Thranduil had one night and neither one would ever forget it.
Relationships: Glorfindel/Thranduil (Tolkien)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26
Collections: 2020 My Slashy Valentine





	In Uncertain and Dangerous Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elladansgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elladansgirl/gifts).



> This is the request for the exchange: Story elements = what if something happened between then one night, something neither of them expected but one of them was gone the next day. What would happen when they met up again years later? Throw in as much angst as you want as long as there is a happy ending.

Both of them were old, so old that they’d been born before time was counted in ages. Each had known both love and sorrow, as all elves had. No being can live years uncounted and not feel sorrow, for those who have been and for those yet to be. 

~

They did not meet until the forces of the Last Alliance crossed the Misty Mountains. 

The Lord of the Golden Flower rode a white steed into the Greenwood, searching for the hidden fortress of Oropher of Doriath. He had been sent by Gil-galad, King of the Noldor, to seek the aid of the armies of the Sindarin elves in the coming battle with Sauron himself. 

He did not fear the bad tempered king who hid from the world. In truth, he feared little in this world or any other. He had fought balrogs. He had seen his loved ones suffer and die at the hands of their kinsmen. He had died and been granted new life here in Middle Earth. He meant to make the best of it and do what he was sent here for, to aid Elrond and the people of Middle Earth in their quest to rid themselves of Sauron and his evil minions. 

Glorfindel rode his white horse, Asfaloth, as far as he could in the dark wood and when the underbrush got too thick and the path too narrow, he let the Meara go. 

“Go to Elrond. He will know I am safe and I will ride you again when I return.”

The horse nodded his head, understanding his master, for Meara were more than horses and understood much of the languages of men and elves. 

He hadn’t walked an hour until he became aware of the presence of another person. He walked a little further and finally spoke. 

“Come out. I know you are following me. I wish you no harm. I am Glorfindel of Imladris now and I have come on behalf of the King.”

“My father is the king,” said a silky voice from the trees. The tone was just condescending enough to make Glorfindel smile. He liked this one. 

“Then you should be able to aid me in my quest.”

“My father wants no part of the Noldor’s wars with Sauron.”

“You have lived here long enough to know that Sauron will not leave your home unscathed,” Glorfindel answered, ignoring the hostile tone. “At least come out and greet me face to face.”

Thranduil had stepped from behind the tree. Glorfindel had seen none so fair since his home in Gondolin had fallen a life time ago. The Sindarin elf was as tall as he was and his hair was the golden color of the metal his father was said to love so much. His eyes shifted between the green of the wood and a deep golden, darker than his hair. 

“You are quite comely, son of Oropher. I know not your name,” Glorfindel said with a smile. 

“I am Thranduil, son and heir to the King. Come with me.” 

He turned and disappeared down a nearly hidden path through thick and tangled tree limbs. Had Glorfindel been a being with less gifts than an elf, he’d have fallen behind and become lost. But he was not a being with less gifts. He stayed close to Thranduil as the elf led him on what Glorfindel surmised to be a circuitous path. He would want to make sure that Glorfindel would not be able to find the opening to Oropher’s underground palace and fortress if he returned with others. 

It took more than an hour to journey to the home of both the King and his son. The guard raised an eyebrow at Thranduil but said nothing as they passed through the ornate wooden doors. The wood was inlaid with precious jewels and mithril, making a pattern of flowers and leaves. 

“Come this way,” Thranduil said as they passed through several hallways and doors until they came at last to the throne room of King Oropher. 

“Who is this?” asked Oropher, who was as comely as his son. The same golden green eyes looked at him from the father’s face. 

“He is Glorfindel of Imladris.”

Oropher looked hard at him. “You are Glorfindel, formerly of Gondolin, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Did Gil-galad send you?” 

“He did, your Majesty.”

“He wants us to help him in his fight?”

“It would benefit your kingdom as well, sire,” Glorfindel pointed out. Half of the Greenwood was now dark and dangerous, the home of evil creatures who fed on any who wandered too far into the darkness. 

“Would it? I have never benefitted from anything else the Noldor have done. Was it not the kinsmen of your king who sacked Doriath, destroying my home and killing my wife?” 

“They are the kinsmen of us all, sire.” 

Oropher said nothing for several long moments.

Finally he said, “I will give it some thought. Perhaps you are right. You will dine with us tonight. Our huntsmen have given us a bounty of venison and our cook is the best in all the land.” 

Glorfindel bowed to the king, and he and Thranduil left the room. 

“He will most likely turn you down,” Thranduil said to him as they walked. “Come with me. I offer you refreshment and a place to wash the trail dirt away.”

He showed Glorfindel to a small suite of rooms. They appeared to be guest quarters. There was a tray with breads, cheeses and fruit sitting on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. A carafe of wine and two glasses were placed beside the tray. 

Glorfindel headed to the adjacent bedroom, where he found a wash stand with a bowl, a pitcher of water, a fragrant soap and a soft towel to dry with. He poured the water into the bowl and washed his face and hands, then dried them. When he turned around, he could see Thranduil pouring wine into the glasses. He returned to the sitting room and smiled at his host. 

“Thank you for your kindness, Thranduil. I am tired from my travels and the wine,” he paused to taste it, “is as good as I’d heard was served in Oropher’s palace.”

Thranduil sipped his own wine with a small smile. 

Glorfindel helped himself to bread and cheese. He hadn’t realized that he was so hungry until he began to eat. Thranduil watched and said nothing. 

“What can I do to change his mind?” Glorfindel asked. 

“I – my father is difficult. He has lost much and life has made him cold. He loves his people and will go to any means to protect them. He will act if he feels they are threatened. There is little you can say to persuade him.”

Glorfindel nodded. “And what is your opinion?” 

Thranduil shrugged. Glorfindel thought he had seldom seen such a handsome elf. “I have no real desire to aid the Noldor, but I would see the darkness gone.”

They drank in silence for a bit. 

Thranduil spoke. “After dinner, come with me to the wood. There will be music and dancing. We do not always hide in our stone fortress. We are wood elves and we all enjoy revelry now and again. Your visit is as good an excuse for some fun as any.” Thranduil stood. “I will leave you to rest.” He bowed and took his leave. 

Later, Glorfindel rang the bell and asked for some water to be brought for his bath. He drank the rest of the bottle of wine and ate more of the bread and cheese as he waited for the water. He soaked in the tub and thought of Thranduil. He was an odd one, but Glorfindel found him interesting. He knew he wanted to know the king’s son better. He hoped he had the time to do so.

Dinner was an hour after sunset. 

The food was rich and plentiful with several meats, including the famed venison, which was the best Glorfindel had eaten since he’d left his home long ago. There were sauces and gravies with the meat as well as root vegetables and green vegetables. The breads and cheese would make anyone’s mouth water. Glorfindel thought if he ate this well every day that he would be as portly as some of the men he’d met. 

Dessert was fresh fruit, puddings, and cakes loaded with nuts and berries. There were warm toddies and coffees as well as sweet dessert wines. Glorfindel sampled all that was set in front of him, eating until he actually worried that his horse couldn’t carry him when he returned home.

He sat on Oropher’s left and Thranduil sat on his father’s right side. Neither king nor prince talked much, but the others around the table kept conversation moving along. A lovely young woman told stories of things she and Thranduil did as children, while an elf who appeared to be a military leader offered stories of himself and the King as young men. 

Glorfindel found all the company to be delightful. 

After dinner, the company moved out into the wood and musicians began to set up their instruments. 

“You will dance with me?” Thranduil asked. 

“I will.” 

The elves danced the slower dances first, two lines meeting and bowing then dancing together, then parting again into their lines. They began slowly and as the wine flowed, they danced faster and faster. After some of the more staid among them sat, the musicians played a fast jig. Thranduil and Glorfindel kept up with the fast paced music fine, Thranduil even smiling once or twice during their dance. 

Finally, even Glorfindel had danced until he could dance no more. 

He sat in one of the chairs circling the dance floor and watched the Silvan elves continue. He smiled gratefully when Thranduil joined him and handed him a glass of cold water. 

“I may look young, but this dancing got the best of me. I haven’t danced like that since I was reborn.”

Thranduil leaned close. “So that is not a rumor? You really did return from the Halls of Mandos?”

“I did. They sent me to fight this darkness, the same as they sent Mithrandir.”

“Shall I show you back to your room so you can rest? Our halls can be confusing if you’ve never been here before.” 

Glorfindel nodded and rose. He supposed he needed to leave soon, tomorrow maybe. He’d gotten all the information he was going to get from Oropher. He would help or not, as he pleased. There was nothing Glorfindel could do to make any difference at this point.

“Here you are,” Thranduil said as they stopped in front of a door that really did look like all of the others. 

“I bid you goodnight, then, my friend,” Glorfindel said as he leaned close to hug Thranduil as was the way among the elves. He was surprised when Thranduil leaned close and wrapped his arms around Glorfindel. He was even more surprised when soft lips touched his as the prince pressed him against the door and kissed him more thoroughly. 

Glorfindel returned the embrace and the kiss. He had not felt this way since his return to Arda. He was shocked, but pleasantly so as Thranduil reached down and opened the door. The two of them practically fell into the room. 

No words passed between them. Their clothes were scattered on the floor as they fell together into the soft down bed. The only sounds for quite some time were sighs and moans and the creaking of the wooden bed frame as they moved atop it. 

“Stay,” Glorfindel said as Thranduil started to get up. “You can leave before dawn and no one will be wiser.” 

Thranduil nodded and kissed him again. This time they did talk, sharing quiet encouragement and appreciation to one another. 

“I am glad I came here,” Glorfindel whispered to the sleeping Thranduil. 

The dawn was lightening the sky outside though it was still dark as night in the underground palace. He got up quietly, dressed hastily and slipped from the room. He spoke to Oropher before he climbed upon his horse and rode away. 

*

Thranduil never spoke of that night again. Indeed, he never spoke the name of his lover again. He didn’t even ask his father if they were going to support the Noldor in their war. He simply followed his father’s orders and readied himself. 

The siege was long, years long, and they all tired of the wait. Thranduil saw Glorfindel from afar on many occasions, but never spoke to him or even acknowledged his presence. Glorfindel returned him the favor. 

The war was won eventually at a high cost for all, but mostly for the Silvan elves of Greenwood. They lost a great many of their host in the Dead Marshes, including their king. Before Sauron was defeated, the king of the Noldor would also fall. 

Thranduil took what was left of his army and went home. He was king now and he shut himself off from everyone outside his kingdom. He married a Silvan woman and had a son, Legolas. 

Darkness rose again and the wood became even more treacherous than it had been when Thranduil was a youth. The elves of Greenwood tended to stay close to home, never venturing farther than their own territory. 

War came and this time, when it was done, most of Thranduil’s people left Middle Earth. They traveled to the Undying Lands, weary of war and sorrow. The remainder of them moved to the city of Ithilien under the leadership of Thranduil’s son. 

Thranduil wondered what had become of Glorfindel. He knew that Elrond, Galadriel and those who’d carried the ring had sailed. Gandalf had also sailed with the Ringbearers. Celeborn and his grandsons still rode the forests, guarding the memories of their kind. Arwen had given up her own immortality to marry the man, Aragorn, and become Queen of Gondor. Thranduil, himself, guarded his part of Eryn Lasgalen, what was left of his home. 

On a whim, Thranduil decided to visit the seaport where Círdan had built and sailed the ships that took the elves to their true home. He had never felt the sea longing that others had. This world was still home to him and he wasn’t sure he would ever leave it. 

He was surprised to see Círdan still living there. He found him down by the harbor, working on a beautiful sailing ship. It appeared to be nearing completion. 

“Thranduil of the Greenwood! Welcome. We have few visitors these days, very few.” Círdan motioned toward his home. “Come. Have dinner with me and we will talk of olden days.” 

Círdan had been here as long as Thranduil remembered. Indeed, he was the oldest elf in all of Arda. He had given aid to and shelter to so many, even Thranduil’s own father for a time after the fall of Doriath.

“Are we the only elves left here besides my son and his band in Ithilien?” Thranduil asked Círdan as he poured wine and set cheese and bread upon the table.

“No. There are a few more. Celeborn, Elrond’s sons, though I think they will leave when their sister passes. Glorfindel is still here.” 

Thranduil had assumed that he’d sailed with Elrond and the Ringbearers. 

“He is?” He was surprised at the way his heart beat a little faster at the news. It had been so many years, he wondered if Glorfindel even remembered him. He certainly had never forgotten that night so very long ago. 

“He travels about, visiting and helping those of us still here. He has taken Gildor’s place as messenger since he sailed.”

“Will you sail soon yourself?” Thranduil asked him as he poured another glass of wine.

“In the next few years. The ship in the harbor is the one I shall leave on. I think perhaps Celeborn will sail with me. I am hoping to talk Glorfindel into coming with us, too. Men no longer need us or our lore in their world. Our time has passed here. Would you sail with us as well?” 

“I have never considered leaving the shores of Arda, but your offer is tempting.”

“Come back in the spring and you can decide then. We will be glad to have you join us.”

He stayed in the Havens for several days, helping Círdan work on his ship and talking of days gone by. It was nice to have someone to talk to, but he needed to go back to his woods again. He needed to smell the earth and trees and be among all the greenery. 

Nearing the end of a day he’d spent going through his belongings, he heard someone inside the caves. He grabbed his sword and made his way quietly toward the entrance. 

“Who is there? Show yourself.” 

“It’s me!” 

He recognized the voice, one he hadn’t heard in several thousand years. It was Glorfindel. 

Thranduil stepped into the open entrance to his home and there he stood. 

“Glorfindel?”

“Yes. I have come to fetch you to the Havens if you wish to sail west. Círdan is finally ready to sail. ”

Thranduil stared. 

Glorfindel smiled at him. 

“Why did you leave?” Thranduil couldn’t think of anything else to say. He added, “All those years ago.” 

“I didn’t have time to fall in love and, in only one night with you, I was doing exactly that.”

“What would have been so bad about that?” 

“I was here for a purpose and you were a prince. We had our places and, unfortunately, they were not together.”

“I wanted to talk to you at the siege of Barad-Dûr, but I forced myself to watch you from afar instead,” Thranduil finally said. 

“I saw you, too. Many times. I wanted to ask you to forgive me, but when I finally felt like I was free enough to do it, your father had been killed and you were king, a very angry king at that.” 

Thranduil remembered his manners. “Come sit. Let me get us a glass of wine.” 

Glorfindel sat and smiled at his host. “So will you come?”

“My son lingers here. Perhaps I should as well,” Thranduil said as he poured the wine. 

“Your son will sail when the king is dead and the queen passes. He bears them much love and loyalty. He will build his own ship and sail with the dwarf.”

“How do you know this?” A look of anger flickered across Thranduil’s face, but he let it go. 

“I do not have the gift of foresight like Elrond and Galadriel but sometimes, I know things. Legolas is loyal to the King and his queen. He will stay for them. The dwarf is family to him. He will take him into the West, if the dwarf agrees to go.”

“I met him once, the dwarf. They came to the Greenwood after the war. I made him as welcome as I was able. Legolas seemed satisfied by it. I have no love for dwarves, but I do know that friendship is precious and wherever one finds it is a good thing.” 

“Are we friends?” Glorfindel asked him.

“I – we are perhaps more than that, I think. I am alone now here in this place. I did not know that I was also lonesome until you came here, until now.”

Glorfindel looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to stay here. Come with me. Círdan has a fine ship and it is time.”

“I’ve never felt a longing for the sea. Never. What if it is not home to me?” 

“It will be. I promise. And your son will come. You and I shall have a house by the sea to watch for him, if you wish it. I love the sea, love sailing and fishing. There are places where the thick wood comes almost to the coast. We could build our house in the edge of the forest.”

Thranduil was amazed at Glorfindel’s words. “You really have considered this, haven’t you?”

Glorfindel nodded. “I have. Of all the elves I have known since I came again to Arda, you are the one who matters most to me. I stayed to watch over you, in hopes of persuading you.”

“I need a little time. I never thought to sail. I need to say goodbye to this land, this home of mine. Are you sure you will not stay here instead?” 

Glorfindel shook his head. “No. This is the land of men now. We have no real place here anymore. We do have a place there.”

“What is it like?”

“I remember little, but it is much like here. All conflict is gone there. All get along and are at peace.”

“Won’t we be bored?”

“With me around?” Glorfindel laughed. “I think not.”

“Stay with me here for a time, for a few days. I will tell you then my decision. Is that fair?” 

Thranduil wanted to go. The thing he could not even admit to himself was that he was afraid. He did not want to explore the unknown anymore. He wanted things to be the same every day, to know what was going to happen. He had lived in uncertain and dangerous times and had worked hard to change that and make the world safe for himself and his people. 

He had done it, too. 

His people had moved on and no longer needed his help. 

No one did. 

Glorfindel rose and put a hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with you then, until you decide or until Círdan sends for me.”

*

Thranduil showed Glorfindel his room and left him to get ready for bed. He tapped on the door before he retired to his own chambers. 

“Would you like more blankets? Some wine? Food?” he said through the door. 

Glorfindel opened the door. “I need nothing, though you may come in if you like.”

“I am sure you are tired and would rest.”

Glorfindel reached for his arm and gently pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him. “I did not come here to rest or to sleep alone. I came to see if there was something left after all these years. Not many days ever passed that I did not think of you, of our one night.”

Thranduil said nothing though his heart shone in his eyes. 

“Tell me I was wrong,” Glorfindel whispered as he spoke near Thranduil’s ear.

“I cannot. I thought of you just as often. But I had a duty, as did you.”

“Our duties are done, my dearest friend. Our duties are done.” Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Thranduil. “Stay with me tonight, no matter what your decision will be. We will always have tonight.” 

Thranduil nodded and Glorfindel blew out the candle by the bed. 

*

The tall ship was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful one that Círdan had built. Thranduil watched as elves carried boxes and trunks onto the ship. There were surprisingly few for someone who’d lived in Arda so very many years. Longer than any of them had. 

Then he saw Glorfindel walk across the wide planks onto the ship. 

He smiled when Glorfindel waved at him. He took a deep breath, reached out his hand to his lover and walked onto the ship. 

They were going home. 

At last.

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Red Lasbelin for beta reading this one for me!


End file.
